


In Which Time Stops, and Glass Shatters

by Kaeon



Series: MLB Short Fics [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Growing Up, LadyNoir - Freeform, Reveal, Sequel, Thinking of Other People, adrienette - Freeform, moving forward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 21:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaeon/pseuds/Kaeon
Summary: This is the sequel short story to "Time as Seen Through Glass"It's been five years since Chat Noir and Ladybug began dating, and they still haven't revealed their true identities to each other. As time passes, this kind of relationship takes its toll... and our heroes find themselves noticing other people in their day to day lives, instead of each other.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: MLB Short Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545283
Comments: 21
Kudos: 111





	1. Method

* * *

Midafternoon on a weekend, quiet and content. Marinette sat in a well-worn booth at her favorite cafe, her cheek resting in one hand as she moved pencil on paper with the other.

She was in an absent-minded sort of mood. She sketched absently, only partially working on her contribution to _ Gabriel’s _ upcoming fall line. She listened absently, as her best friend--seated across from her--gushed about her latest interview with the heroes Rena Rouge and Carapace after they’d helped with an akuma the day before.

Marinette was a little less absent, there, as she smiled to herself when Alya carefully worded her gushing so as to avoid giving away the heroes identities -- or rather, her identity, and that of her boyfriend. Marinette, of course, was not supposed to know that. So she smiled only slightly and nodded in the appropriate places with her general absentmindedness.

And in the forefront of her mind, where there was the least absence, she reminisced happily on this morning’s early patrol. Or, rather, Chat’s _ the sky is clear and the weather is gorgeous and I shall watch the sunrise with my girlfriend from the best viewpoint in Paris_.

His declaration had been met, as usual, with amused eye-rolling, but Marinette couldn’t say no to him for long.

So they’d set up atop the Tower and shared croissants and watched the sunrise, and it’d been blissful and serene and Marinette had been in a good mood ever since.

“--said Ladybug wears purple underpants with tiny butterflies on them--”

Marinette looked up very slowly from her sketchbook. “...what?”

Alya snorted. “I _ knew _ you weren’t listening. Girl, if you don’t want to hear about my job, just say so, okay? I can gush to Nino, you know.”

Marinette quickly sat up and wiped all absentmindedness off her face. “Sorry, Alya. Just lost in thought. I’m listening.”

“Mhm. And _ what _ were you thinking about so diligently? I can clearly see it wasn’t your designs.” Alya leaned over to peer at Marinette’s sketchbook, which caused Marinette to look down as well. She flushed scarlet at Alya’s low whistle at the image there -- when had she stopped working on that suit coat and started drawing Chat’s abs?!

“A_hem_,” Alya whistled again. “And _ whoooo _ is that, Mms. Dupain-Cheng? I thought you weren’t seeing anyone, hmm?”

“I- I'm not!” Marinette denied, quickly shutting her sketchbook. _ Mon dieu, _ that was embarrassing. Thank goodness Chat was never going to see that or she’d never hear the end of it.

Of course, it wasn’t her fault he’d been working out more lately. Really, what was a girl supposed to do when her boyfriend was super ripped and routinely wore skintight black leather?

It was a miracle she managed to stay focused during akuma attacks, honestly.

“Mhmmmm….?” Alya clearly did not believe her.

Marinette sighed. “It’s just… uhm… one of the models at my job… he’s hot, okay? Yeesh, Alya. Will you stop laughing? Hey--”

“It’s not _ Adrien_, is it?” Alya continued laughing. “I hear he’s gotten super ripped lately--”

“_No!” _ Marinette glowered at her best friend and stuffed the sketchbook into her purse, irritated by how quickly she’d felt the need to deny that. She’d been dating Chat for almost five years, and they were perfectly in love. There was no reason for her to feel guilty at Alya’s mention of Adrien.

True, they were still friends and hung out a lot, and she adored Adrien, but she didn’t have a crush on him anymore. That would make her a _ horrible _ person, and she wasn’t.

She was just super close to Adrien, that was all. They got along really well, once they actually started getting to know each other.

Alya, across the table, was still laughing, clearly disbelieving Marinette’s defense. “Please, girl, anyone can see there’s chemistry between you two. He’s single, I don’t get why you haven’t just asked him out. You’re way chill enough to do it now.”

“No way,” Marinette waved her best friend off, still mired in internal denials that were making her feel increasingly guilty.

For some reason, this had been happening a lot ever since she started working at _ Gabriel _ and began spending more time with Adrien. She kept telling herself it was nothing, and doted extra on her kitty because of it.

She loved Chat. Even if she did, somewhere deep inside, still admire Adrien enough to like him that way, it was nothing compared to how much she loved her boyfriend.

Though it would be nice if she and Chat could sit on her couch and compete madly at video games the way she and Adrien sometimes did.

That, of course, was a commonplace thought and one she’d learned long ago to push aside.

_ Someday, _ was the whisper they shared in the dark, when they held each other close and wished they could do more than meet in secret, on rooftops and in places that meant nothing to either of them save seclusion.

She wanted Chat in her kitchen, so she could teach him to bake. She wanted to walk through his home and look at the pictures on his walls. She wanted to _ really _ talk about her day, and hear about his in return, without having to constantly be vague about it.

These were all familiar desires, familiar thoughts, familiar conversations they’d had.

More than once, they’d considered just giving up and revealing themselves to each other. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remember why they shouldn’t.

Then there would be akuams like the one from the day before, when Ladybug had had to call on both Rena Rouge and Carapace after she and Chat had to detransform twice and still couldn’t beat the villain.

Hawk Moth was getting stronger, and smarter with the powers he sent at them. Marinette had actually spoken to Master Fu a few months prior about the possibility of handing out a few Miraculous full times, so she wouldn’t have to keep leaving battles to get help.

It hadn’t happened yet, but it might, and the fact that they were considering it just proved how dangerous things were.

Then again, there was the nagging point Chat had brought up recently, too, in one of their late night message wars over their favorite anonymous app. 

_ If neither of us has revealed our own identities to Hawk Moth yet, why are we so sure we’d reveal each others’ if we knew? _

The thought was still dancing in her head, even though it’d been weeks since he said it and he hadn’t brought it up again.

“-lo, _ hello_, earth to-- oh _ hello_, are you listening to me again?” Marinette blinked slowly at Alya, who was once again laughing her butt off.

Except now Nino was beside her, grinning and picking off his girlfriend’s plate of chips. And Adrien was sitting beside Marinette, one elbow on the table and an amused look on his handsome face.

Marinette turned red and threw her hands up. “Sorry, sorry -- I’ve just had a lot… on my mind, okay?”

Alya continued laughing.

“I didn’t think you were _ this _ stressed about my father asking for your help with the main line this fall,” Adrien said, also reaching over to grab a couple chips from Alya’s plate. The reporter frowned at both men and moved her plate away from their reach, prompting pouting from Adrien and a chuckle from Nino.

“I’m…” Marinette started to deny it, because she was stressed but not _ that _ stressed. Then she realized it was the perfect excuse and shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s a lot, you know?”

“I have faith in you, Mari,” Adrien said, grinning at her. 

She grinned back, since his smile was, as always, utterly contagious. “Thanks.”

“Eh, no worries.” Adrien turned back to Nino, then, while Alya wiggled her brows across the table and Marinette shot her best friend a dark, threatening glower. 

It would be nice, she reflected, if she could just tell Alya she had a boyfriend. But Alya would ask way too many questions, and she’d want to meet him or at least Skype him if Marinette said he didn’t live in Paris, and… it would be impossible.

So she was forced to endure this teasing and suggestiveness.

She snitched one of Alya’s chips herself, out of spite, and crunched into it with extreme prejudice.

“_Anyway,_” Alya crooned, amusement still sparkling around her bright eyes, “you guys know my sisters are in their school play this year, right?”

“Of course,” Marinette said, smiling. “You’ve only mentioned it like ten times.”

The boys chuckled and Alya shrugged, grinning. “Yeah, well, they’re trying to get into ‘method’ or whatever and they want my help. They’re supposed to play Ladybug and Chat Noir, and they said me and Nino’s roleplay was… less than satisfactory.”

“Nah, they said it _ sucked,_” Nino corrected, grinning. “Apparently we aren’t hero material, or something.”

“Yeah, apparently.” Alya rolled her eyes, and Marinette tried not to snicker at the amused glace the two of them shared.

“So… show them a bunch of Ladyblog vids?” Adrien suggested, leaning past Marinette to snatch another of Alya’s chips. The reporter glared daggers at his hand for a moment before deflating, clearly recognizing a losing battle.

“I tried that,” she said, pulling out her phone. “But I just don’t have enough footage of the two of them, like, talking or anything. I mean, aside from that one vid Alix caught of them kissing near the Louvre--which is not going to work for my sisters, obviously--there hasn’t been much of them publicly outside akuma fights these last few years.”

Marinette shrugged. “Well, after that whole pregnancy fiasco, I can see why.” She was _ still _ irritated by that and it’d been over two years. Just because some idiot _ happened _ to suggest he’d spotted the heroes sans clothes--needless to say, she and Chat had been _ much _ more careful since then--didn’t mean Ladybug was automatically having kittens!

Ugh.

Alya winced sympathetically, and Marinette felt slightly better.

“Anyway, I’ve been taking vids of all the couples I know roleplaying them for the twins,” the reporter finished, shrugging. “I got Ivan and Mylene, Rose and Juleka, Sean and Marien from the office and like two or three others, but so far… no dice. So,” she grinned brightly at Adrien and Marinette, “it’s your turn.”

For a moment, there was awkward silence. Then Adrien laughed a little and said, “Yeah, but we’re not dating, Al.”

“No,” Marinette agreed, frowning.

“I mean, no offense,” Adrien continued, glancing at Marinette. “You’re totally awesome, Mari, and I totally love you, but, you know…”

“Yeah,” she agreed, not looking at him. “Exactly.”

Alya looked between them while Nino buried his face in his phone, clearly staying out of it. Thankfully the reporter did not mention that both her friends were a bit red in the face, or that neither of them sounded very convincing, or that her chemistry vibe was going off again.

She just shrugged, amused, and said, “Yeah, well, you’re my last ditch. I’m not asking you to _ kiss _ or anything. Just throw something out for the twins.”

Again, a heartbeat of awkward silence.

Then Marinette sighed and brushed a strand of hair behind one ear. “Okaaay…” She glanced at Adrien, not at all comfortable with the idea of playing herself with her high school crush.

Not only could that lead to too many questions from Alya--after all, how could Marinette not do well, she _ was _ Ladybug--it would just be awkward in general.

Adrien, for his part, rubbed at his neck. “I don’t know, Chat Noir’s kind of… out of my league, don’t you think?”

Marinette couldn’t help but snort. “Please, Adrien, don’t joke. You’re probably _ equally _ famous.”

Adrien laughed. “Okay, maybe, but _ I’m _ not a superhero, you know? My vibe is way more classy than that stray cat’s.”

“He’s not a _ stray._” For a moment, Marinette didn’t recognize her own voice, as it was one that was generally reserved for Ladybug. “Ladybug would get _ nowhere _ without him. He’s her partner, equally, and I don’t get why so many people--”

“Woah, woah,” Adrien soothed, holding up his hands. There was a strange light in his eyes as he smiled at her. “I didn’t mean anything bad; the cat pulls his weight, I agree. Sorry.”

Marinette huffed out a breath. “Sorry too.”

“Okay kids, that was adorable, now it’s go time,” Alya crowed. And Marinette realized the camera was on.

Great.

“Uh…” At least Adrien also seemed at a loss. But if Marinette didn’t do something soon, he was going to drop a pun--he shared that particular affinity with her boyfriend--and she was going to be stuck.

So Marinette blew out a breath, tossed her head, and gave Alya’s phone the most Chat-like grin she could muster. “Hey, Ladybloggers,” she purred, leaning forward with a wink. “Your favourrite _ chat _ here, ready for his interview.” She leaned back and tossed her hair again, smirking broadly. “We totally kicked that last akuma’s can, right M’lady?” Then she turned that smirk on Adrien, who had the most adorably dumbfounded look on his face she’d ever seen.

Then he grinned. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, kitty,” he said, leaning back against the cushion with a casual air. He reached over, like it was nothing, and scritched underneath Marinette’s chin. “We had help.” He looked at the camera then, dead serious behind a smile. “We couldn’t have done it without Rena Rouge and Carapace, so they definitely deserve a shout out.”

Wow. He was… good.

Marinette grinned right back at the camera. “Pawsitively, those two are the cat’s meow.” She winked again and made a point of leaning against Adrien’s arm. “Of course, they’re nothing com_purr_ed to my lovely bugaboo~”

“Not now, kitty,” Adrien scolded, prodding her nose lightly. His eyes glimmered with amusement, and his small smirk was… wicked. “Later.”

Marinette was struck for a moment and had to clear her throat, quickly looking away from his eyes, because -- wow, that wasn’t fair, okay--

“_And _ that’s a wrap!” Alya threw up her hands, phone included, and grinned at them. “Okay, that was amazing!”

Marinette and Adrien quickly looked away from each other, rubbing their necks and laughing at the entire thing.

Because it was funny.

Somehow, hours later, lying in bed and messaging _ her _ kitty--not Adrien’s--Marinette still couldn’t quite see how it was funny.

And it was even less funny when, the next day, Alya informed them that the twins loved their performance so much they’d watched the video over and over all night and were planning on using the actual dialogue somehow.

Marinette had no reason to feel guilty.

None at all.

So why, by all the cats in the city, did she?

The feeling persisted for far longer than she’d have liked. Far longer than she’d ever admit.

Actually, in all likelihood… it never went away.

The feeling grew at the strangest times. At work, while going over her design ideas with the coordinator, when Adrien strolled in wearing one of his designer suits and talking seriously with Nathalie about something. She found herself noticing how broad his shoulders had gotten. How light his eyes were.

It grew, too, at later times. In her apartment, when Adrien dropped by with some files she’d forgotten and happened to stay for dinner and games. Or out with Alya and the girls, drinking martinis and having fun, when a stray fantasy popped into her head that was _ not _ about her kitty.

The vague feeling of guilt turned to all out shame after that. Once it could no longer be denied.

She was a horrible, horrible person.

It grew so bad that Chat noticed. And though she played it off at first, she could never hide anything from him for long.

So they sat, their legs dangling off the edge of one of their favorite rooftops, their fingers intertwined.

“What’s wrong, Bugaboo?” he asked, quietly and sincerely in that way that made her heart melt.

Shame welled in her throat and she didn’t want to tell him, but he looked at her with such kind eyes that she did, anyway.

“I… I’m so awful, Chaton,” she whispered. “I’ve been… thinking about someone else.”

She didn’t have to specify the logistics. He knew her well enough to get it. And she felt his fingers tighten around hers in understanding.

“I’m sorry--” she began, looking up at him, desperate to make him understand that it was meaningless--

But he leaned his forehead against hers. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. But she swallowed her words.

He sighed, heavy, burdened, the kind of sigh she hated to hear him make. “Honestly… I’m kind of in the same boat.”

For a heartbeat, she just stared at him, his face so close, lashes against the leather of his mask and lids shut against the full moon’s light.

Then he added, “It’s hard. To… not be able to spend time with each other normally.”

For another heartbeat, Marinette’s head was full of jealous thoughts and sadness. And then she sighed, and leaned against him, and nodded once.

“It is.”

“I haven’t done anything--” Chat began, turning his head toward hers again. “I would never hurt you like that--”

“I know.” She lifted a hand to press against his cheek, smiling. “Me neither. I would never. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, nuzzling her hair. “And I trust you.”

It was freeing, that conversation. Those words. She knew he did, and she trusted him, too, but… in that context, it was warmth in her chest and a smile on her face and the strength to keep going. To ignore any lingering thoughts of Adrien and focus on what was most important.

And she knew, wherever he was, her Chaton was doing the same.


	2. Beyond Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is not how it was supposed to go in my head... but when I started writing it, she wanted to time skip xD so I guess we'll see what happens.... I'm winging it, guys 0.0 
> 
> Also, yeah, I'm back xD sort of xD

Fall came. _ Gabriel’s _ line kicked off with a bang, and they held a massive party to celebrate. Anyone who was anyone in the fashion community attended, including many plus-ones and selective secondary invites.

Alya and Nino were going, of course, thanks to Adrien and Marinette getting them invites. Chloé was there, as were several other politicians, businesspeople, and their dates.

All together it was one of the grandest parties of the year, held in the massive ballroom of Le Grand Paris and talked about in the media beforehand for months.

The evening of, Ladybug and Chat Noir went on patrol, just to make sure all the ruckus wasn’t bringing up trouble. Things were quiet, so they meandered, occasionally racing each other over rooftops only for the winner to capture the loser with kisses.

It was gentle, playful, fun, a rather carefree evening for them both.

They sat atop the Louvre before parting ways, basking in each others’ company. The sun hadn’t set yet, so it was earlier than they usually patrolled and definitely earlier than they usually parted.

Ladybug had been the one to suggest it, but Chat hadn’t argued.

They sat in quiet solidarity for a time, wrapped in each others’ arms, before Chat murmured into her hair, “You should probably go soon, Bugaboo.”

“Mm?” she murmured. “Why?”

He chuckled. “You’re going to that party, right? That’s why you wanted to patrol early.”

“Oh.” She smiled and guessed there was no harm in telling him. “Yeah, I am.”

For a moment, he hummed softly, and she considered the fact that he was right. She was already dressed beneath her suit, but she still needed to pick up a couple things and she was supposed to meet Alya before; they were riding together.

Still, she had no desire to leave her kitty’s arms.

Chat chuckled into her ear. “Okay, let’s rephrase._ I _have to go soon.”

She tilted her head up at him. “You’re going, too?”

“You don’t think my civilian identity could be important enough to have received an invite?” he teased, smirking. “I’ve told you I’m pretty famous.”

She laughed. “Okay, okay. I guess I didn’t consider it.”

Hmm. So they’d both be there.

It promised to be a massive gathering, so it wasn’t likely they’d run into each other, but she wondered. Wondered if she’d know him, if she caught a glimpse through the crowd…

No. Dangerous thoughts.

Even though his observation from months ago was still stuck in her head. It was true; if they could protect their own identities, and she’d managed to protect Alya and Nino’s--and them each others’--then why _ couldn’t _ she and Chat just… drop the masks?

Something still prevented her from suggesting it, though.

Maybe it’d been so long that she was almost scared of how things might be without the masks. She’d gotten used to things being this way, and while she didn’t particularly like them…

It would be a huge step. A scary step, with akumas still out and about.

She imagined it, though. Seeing him for real. Introducing him to her parents and her friends. Finding out what he really did for a living, telling him about her designs, maybe… spending nights in her apartment instead of the rooftops. Or in his.

Or in _ theirs. _

The direction of her thoughts was intense and deep and she wanted to share it, wanted to ask, because really -- it was time.

It was beyond time.

It was… it was _ time. _

But Chat stood, withdrawing his arms. “Sorry, my love,” he said ruefully. “But we’ll_ both _ be late at this rate.”

She stood with him, watched as he twirled his baton in preparation to go.

Then she grabbed his tail. He paused, looking back at her, head tilted inquisitively. His hair had grown past his shoulders in the last couple years, and he wore the bottom half in a ponytail now. It curled over his shoulder and strands fell in his face and--

“Tonight, it’s a masque,” she said, swallowing the sudden dryness in her mouth.

“Yeah,” he said, mouth curling. “It promises to be fun. Early fall, and all that.”

“Chaton…” she looked at him, and he seemed to realize how serious she was, because he turned fully and stepped back to her, holding both her hands.

“What is it, Bugaboo?”

She peered up at him for a long moment. “I-- I’m so tired of this. You… you were right. I trust you to protect my identity and-- and I know I can protect yours.”

He stared at her, eyes blown wide, mouth slightly open.

Ladybug took a breath and plowed forward. “Look for me, tonight. And I’ll look for you. And if we recognize each other, then-- then it’s time.”

“...and if we don’t?” he asked, slowly, tilting his head again.

She lifted a hand to cup his face. “Then we’re not ready.”

He swallowed. And, slowly, a smile with wattage to outshine the sun spread over his face. “I’ll find you,” he said, his clawed fingers sliding into her hair. “I promise.”

She smiled, and leaned up to kiss him, and then they both _ really _ had to go. Because she was already late.

And this was one party she suddenly had no desire to miss a moment of.


	3. Hello, Kitty

Marinette couldn’t focus. Alya kept casting sideways glances at her, clearly wondering what had gotten into her best friend’s head and messed it up. Again.

She was late for their meetup, and they were both late picking up Nino, and though they weren’t the last ones to arrive at the party… they were late.

Alya spent a good ten minutes pestering Marinette for answers before giving up--mostly thanks to Nino--but Marinette barely noticed.

She was too busy scanning every face in the crowd. On the way up the red carpet. On the trek through the lobby to the ballroom, smiling for the cameras. And in the venue itself, standing by the buffet tables, watching everyone else dance… in her head, there was only the look on Chat’s face when she made this hairbrained suggestion.

Only the feel of his fingers in her hair and his promise on her lips.

God, she was ready. So, so ready.

It was anticipation in her stomach, fluttery in her chest and fingertips. She didn’t taste the champagne, didn’t hear the pleasantries she exchanged with various upstanding members of society.

She just kept scanning faces.

Wondering.

She knew, of course, that the biggest obstacle was the Miraculous. Tikki had explained to her ages ago that no one would recognize her in the suit because the magic prevented it. Her appearance stayed the same -- same hair, same eyes, same shape. But even her own parents had never known her, though all that hid her from them was a piece of cloth over her eyes.

Magic.

So it was likely that her Chaton really did have messy blond hair and bright green eyes. Well, the green could be part of his suit, she supposed. He might have any color eyes.

And there was the fact that when Alya transformed, her hair changed color slightly. 

And most akumas didn’t look anything like their civilian selves.

So it was also possible that her Chaton did _ not _ really have messy blond hair and green eyes.

He could be that music producer, standing two feet away by the punch bowl, laughing with his friends. His height was right. But his laugh… no.

It was all wrong.

Not Chat.

Marinette’s gaze slid further into the room, seeking. She’d forgotten the party itself, forgotten that there was an important reason she was here -- it was part of her job, after all. The only thing that was important to her was the too-fast beating of her heart and the hope in her head.

Tonight.

Tonight she could see her kitty. Her _ real _ kitty. Tonight… tonight was _ someday_. She would make it happen.

She’d waited all these years, with good and valid reasons, but… she was done waiting.

It was beyond time. And she was ready.

So she kept searching. And she was so involved in this search that she didn’t notice when her friends returned from the dancefloor, barely heard them standing around her chatting. She didn’t notice when they left, either, Alya with a bemused shake of her head and Nino with a concerned, pointed glance at Adrien -- _ find out what’s wrong, dude_.

Of course, Adrien wasn’t all that present, either. He, much like Marinette, was busy scanning the crowd. Searching.

Still, Adrien had always possessed a little more _ awareness _ than Marinette. So he noticed that she was preoccupied. Noticed his best friend’s concern. And took a moment to focus on her, because she was his friend, too.

“Marinette?”

She startled at the touch on her shoulder, eyes sliding to her right. Her first thought was that it was Chat, but no -- Chat didn’t know her name.

Adrien peered down at her with his kind green eyes, a glass of champagne in one hand and a slanted smile on his face. He’d dressed up even more than he usually did for this party -- his suit was charcoal and blue, one of Marinette’s own designs from the fall line, and he’d paired it with a deep blue mask fashioned after feathers.

Marinette couldn’t help but grin at that mask. He’d probably done it just for the irony.

“Nice mask,” she told him, smirking.

He grinned. “I tha_ah-choo_,” he quipped. Marinette shook her head at the typical bad pun and slid her gaze past him, eyes catching on a tall young man walking past the fountain that had been erected in the center of the room.

Blond hair, right build… but no. He didn’t… _ walk _ right. She sighed.

“Marinette, is everything okay?” Adrien turned to glance over his shoulder, clearly trying to see what had made her frown.

“Sorry,” she said, wincing as she realized that she was being rude to one of her closest friends. “I’m just… I have a lot on my mind.”

Adrien nudged her with one shoulder. “Care to share?”

“I…” Marinette cast about for an excuse, but nothing readily sprang to mind. With the completion of the fall line, she had vacation time coming up, so she couldn’t state work as a reason. 

What was the harm in telling him, anyway? If things went well… she’d be introducing him--and everyone else--to her boyfriend soon enough.

The thought made her smile, secretly, softly, in a way that caught Adrien’s eye.

“I’m looking for someone,” she said, shrugging her bare shoulders. “A friend of mine is supposed to be here tonight.”

“Anyone I know?” Adrien asked, brows lifting over the edges of his mask.

Marinette snorted. “I doubt it.”

“Ouch.” He mock winced, and she laughed.

“I just meant-- you don’t run in… the same circles.” The finish was lame and kind of rude, and she patted his arm consolingly. “You haven’t met him, no.”

Well, he had, actually. Pretty much all of her friends had met Chat--and Ladybug--at one point or another over the years.

But she couldn’t very well say _ that. _

Adrien made a humming sound in the back of his throat, seeming to accept this answer. He glanced over the room himself, and Marinette followed his gaze; the two of them, side by side, looking at everyone else.

For anyone else.

And in their hiding places--one pocket, one hand-held clutch--two kwamis heaved heavy sighs to themselves.

The evening wore on. Marinette danced with Adrien just to distract herself, and couldn’t help noting that he seemed equally preoccupied. They were quiet company, but used to each other, and neither minded.

Nearly two hours into the party, after all the speeches had been made and most of the food was gone and people were sitting at tables chatting or dancing in good cheer, Marinette found herself standing by the fountain, watching the water.

She’d circled the room multiple times. She was beginning to wonder if the Miraculous magic was just too hard to overcome. If it had nothing to do with them being ready and everything to do with their powers themselves.

Maybe this was all a bad idea. Marinette should’ve just dropped her transformation on that rooftop. They could’ve come here _ together_.

Sometimes… she disliked herself.

Still, her heart skipped a beat every time someone walked toward her, and her eyes searched for possibilities in every face. After the fifth or sixth person walked past her to someone else, she started fiddling with her phone.

What would Chat do if she just sent him a message? Something like, _ I’m standing by the fountain in a green dress. The one from Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s fall line. Come and get me, kitty. _

The thought was a haze of fantasy over her eyes, one tainted by a familiar doubt -- a doubt she knew she had no reason to feel.

He loved her. She loved him. Masks or no masks. Secrets or no secrets. And she couldn’t wait to introduce him to her life.

Still, she’d set the rules for this evening… and, as usual, Chat had agreed to them. He was always so sensitive to her fears, always so willing to wait, to be cautious on her account, though she knew it was never what he’d wanted. He’d never shared her fears about their identities or the rules of the Miraculous.

But he went along with it all, just because she asked him to. Kind and self-sacrificing to a fault, that was her kitty.

Even now she was sure he was somewhere in this room, searching for her, probably equally frustrated. Probably--

“There you are.”

The low voice came from behind her, warm and inviting and so, so familiar. Something sparked low in Marinette’s chest, then leapt onto her face in the form of a giddy smile.

“Hello, kitty,” she said, barely turning her head, not quite ready yet. In the warm lights and her peripheral there was blond hair and a tall, familiar form. Her upswept hair tickled her neck and her heart pounded against her ribcage, too fast. “How’d you know it was me?” A hint of pique laced her tone, teasing, anticipatory, thrilled. “I’ve been looking for you all night and haven’t spotted a thing.”

Silence behind her, save the tinkling of glasses and the gentle wash of chatter from the rest of the partiers. One heartbeat passed, then another, and it was too much for Marinette’s nerves.

He wasn’t saying anything. She needed to see him. _ See _ him.

She swiveled, skirts flaring, to face him.

And found herself looking up at _ Adrien_.


	4. Oh.

“Oh.”

Disappointment flared, followed by a wash of mortification as Marinette's words repeated in her head and she realized what she'd _said._ Her face flamed. “I’m so sorry, Adrien, I-- I thought you were someone else.” She resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands. “I’m-- ugh. Forget that. I’m--”

“Collossally stupid.”

“... what?” Marinette blinked at one of her oldest friends, limned in the fairy lights strung between the chandelier and the fountain. He was staring at her, his eyes wide and… warm.

So, so warm, as they traveled across her face, down her body, up again. Heat curled through Marinette and she tried to squash it, as usual, but…

Why was he looking at her that way?

“Both of us,” he breathed, shaking his head once. “_Colossally _stupid.”

“Uhm…” Marinette eyed him, teeth poised to sink into her lower lip, unsure where this was coming from. She was still reeling from the surprise of seeing him standing where she’d have sworn her kitty was. His voice had sounded… so much like Chat’s.

Funny. She’d never noticed that similarity before.

“Adrien, are you all right?” she asked, shaking off the thought. She’d never heard Adrien call himself stupid before. Let alone anyone else.

He shook his head once, that warmth spreading in his eyes, seeping into the lines around his mouth, making him seem to shine. He really was attractive. It really wasn’t fair.

“You know,” he said, lips twitching toward a smile, “I’ve been looking for someone, too.”

Marinette’s brows rose above her own mask, a jade green affair she'd fashioned to match the dress. Confused, in more ways than one, she played along without thinking.

“Anyone I know?”

His smile turned conspiratorial. “I think so.”

“Oh?”

He leaned closer, his face nearly next to hers -- _ too close_. “Well, don’t tell anyone, Mari, but a little bug told me Ladybug was going to be here tonight.”

His words held her captive along with the feel of his breath on her cheek, on the shell of her ear. 

Ladybug…?

She frowned, because she didn’t recall any rumors of the kind. She hadn’t released anything press related about this party, or mentioned to anyone…

Except…

Chat. She told Chat.

“A… little bug-- mentioned that?” she tried, her voice coming out a little too high.

Adrien only moved closer, closer than she could remember him ever standing before, very much in her personal space. His breath was hot on her ear and neck. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, scorching.

Familiar.

Oh.

_ Oh_.

“Yeah,” he purred. “A _ meow_culous one.”

“Pfft--” Marinette burst into laughter, shoulders shaking, revelations piling one atop another in her head.

Was it really possible?

Had he really been… right here? This whole time? All these years?

Was she really that… blind?

Her laughter petered into silence, her forehead nearly resting against his shoulder, heedless of all the people in the room around them.

“... colossally stupid, you said?” she repeated, somewhat weakly.

“_Meow_culously,” he said dryly. “_M’lady."_ His fingers slid up her arm, raising goosebumps. His other hand found the dip of her waist.

No gloves.

No claws.

Real skin. Familiar callouses. Familiar strength in a gentle grip.

_ Oh. _

And Marinette was back in her own head from months ago, noticing a thousand and one little things about Adrien Agreste that made her want to kiss him. Made her want to lean into his touch. Made her want to run her fingers through his hair. Wrap her arms around him when he looked stressed or overworked.

A thousand times. A million things. All these years.

And she’d felt _ bad _ about it!

“_Mon dieu_,” she breathed, the words torn between a laugh and a groan as she let her forehead rest against Adrien’s chest. _ Chat’s _ chest.

Of course.

It was so simple.

It made so much sense.

And she was so colossally stupid.

“I should have known,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I feel so stupid. _ Of course _ it’s you. Of course I wouldn’t think about anyone else--”

She cut herself off, cheeks flaming at the memory of that fantasy she’d had a few months before. The one that wasn’t her kitty.

But it was. Of course it was.

Adrien--_Chaton_\--choked on a little laugh. “Wait-- it was _ me? _ You were--”

“Shut up, kitty.”

He laughed, low and rich, into her hair. The sound shivered over her skin, into her heart, and decided to curl up like a kitten and purr.

She smiled into his chest, looping her arms around his waist. “How _ did _ you know it was me?” she asked, suddenly desperately curious.

He snorted. “I had no idea.”

“What?” She looked up at him, blinking.

He grinned, and she wondered how she’d never noticed that Adrien’s grin was so much like Chat’s. “Nino sent me to find you, Mari. Alya wants a picture before we all leave.”

Oh.

Adrien’s eyes sparkled down at her. “I certainly wasn’t expecting you to call me _ kitty, _” he said, lowering his voice again. Marinette bit her lip, studying him, letting it settle.

Everywhere she looked she saw the signs of it. His expressive mouth. His dancing eyes. His quick movements. The breadth of his shoulders and the casual grace in the way he moved.

It was all so _ obvious_.

And so… right. Of course it was him. Of course it’d never been anyone else but him. She should have known.

“Sorry, _ mon chaton,_” she murmured, smiling up at him.

“What are you apologizing for?” he asked, brows lifting over the edge of his mask again. Strange how they were both still wearing masks, but with simple cloth in the way, there was nothing really hidden.

“Nothing,” she said, because it was true. She wasn’t apologizing for anything she could name. For anything but time.

Time they could have had.

Well, they had it anyway. In stolen moments, and in real ones. As themselves and as their alter egos. It had always been a thing, ever since high school, that Adrien and Marinette were together.

So there was nothing to apologize for. There was nothing lost.

Just something found.

Hours later, after the party was over--and Alya had gotten all her pictures, as well as a good long rant in about how preoccupied Marinette had been--Ladybug stood in her apartment, hand on her yo-yo, ready to swing out into the night. To find her kitty.

But a knock at the door stopped her. It was a quiet knock, but firm, followed by sound more like _ scritching _ than knocking.

A smile pulled at her mouth. And she knew.

Marinette dropped her transformation. Opened the door. Let Adrien into her apartment, along with the bottle of wine he held in one hand.

With the lights of Paris shining through the open balcony doors their only illumination, they stood and took each other in. Beside them, two kwamis floated, one red with black spots, the other black with green eyes. 

“It’s about time,” Plagg complained, stretching his mouth wide in a yawn. “This was _ really _ starting to get old.”

“Be nice, Plagg,” Tikki scolded, tiny arms folded over her chest. “I thought it was beautiful.”

“You think everything’s beautiful, sugar cube,” Plagg retorted, rolling his eyes. With a huff, Tikki grabbed the cat kwami by the hand and dragged him into the bathroom, protesting all the way.

Marinette and Adrien watched this with quiet amusement on their faces, mixed with a shared feeling of amazement.

How many times had they sat on her couch in this very apartment, with no idea how close they were to each other… while their kwamis went off somewhere together and whispered about it?

The thought made Marinette shake her head, and after a moment Adrien followed suit with a grin.

“On the bright side,” he said wryly, “there wasn’t an akuma tonight. I half expected Hawk Moth to crash the party.”

Marinette snorted. “Maybe he took the night off, too.”

“There’s a weird thought.”

They shared a secret smile, still standing too far apart, with too much space between them. Then Adrien lifted the bottle and his brows, and Marinette smiled and went to find them a pair of clean glasses.

And they sat on her balcony, and shared the wine, and watched the stars shimmer over the city lights while a cool breeze rustled past them.

It wasn’t a rooftop. It wasn’t a secluded abandoned building. She didn’t have a magic suit protecting her from the chill of the evening air.

But he was here. And it was home. So she reached across the arm of her chair and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. 

“It was you, too,” he said after a moment, tilting his glass of wine speculatively.

“What was?” Marinette asked, dipping her head to rest it against the back of the chair. Watching him. Taking in the planes of his face and the lines of his body, marveling that he’d been so close all these years. Savoring the fact that he was _ here_.

Adrien smiled, his eyes glinting at her. “When I said I was in the same boat. Thinking about someone else. It was you, Mari.”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

And she laughed, then, because she couldn’t do anything else. She just curled up in that chair, her fingers still entwined with his, and laughed until she cried. And Adrien joined her, the warm sound filling her chest, chasing away the evening’s chill and tiredness, making everything in her world a little less wrong and a lot more right.

All the time it’d taken them to get here, and… she wouldn’t trade a moment of it.

Not one.

Marinette smiled at her boyfriend and lifted his hand so she could kiss his knuckles. “I love you, Adrien,” she said, quietly.

He smiled and reached for her, and she let him tug her out of her chair and across the space between them, until she was sitting on his lap and his hands were on her waist and in her hair.

“I love you too, Marinette,” he said, equally quietly. Equally sweetly.

“Stay with me?” she asked, running her fingers over the lines of his face; his cheekbones, his brows, the hollows of his eyes. All the places she’d never been allowed to touch before.

She didn’t have to clarify what she meant. He smiled, the kind of smile Chat only ever gave his lady when they were alone, and pulled her down for a kiss. 

Marinette melted into him, molded to him, her fingers in his hair. She could fall into him and never, ever come up for air.

But he pulled away, just a little, with another of those smiles. To say, “Always, princess.”

And the secrets, the fears, the things she’d once thought mattered more than anything--

They were forgotten.

There was only this -- Chat’s hands at her waist, Chat’s mouth on her skin. And her name on his lips, his name on hers --

Adrien. And Marinette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I decided to write a sequel to TaSTG, it was supposed to be much more lighthearted... and they were supposed to figure out each other's identities thanks to Alya's method acting stuff. That was supposed to be a whole thing xD But... it didn't go that way. So I'm not quite sure of the flow here, but... I think I like how it turned out ^-^ let me know what you guys think.
> 
> The end... for now ;P


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